


A New Case

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Sussex Retirement [6]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5203238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson learns of a possibly suspicious death in the village, which catches Holmes' interest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arsenic Poisoning

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's Older not Dead "Elements" challenge.
> 
> The chapter headings are the specific prompts.

I had feared that with the growing inclement weather I would have to curtail my visits to the Red Lion public house in the centre of the village. It was not that I objected to the walk down in the dark, but returning home in misty conditions and without the benefit of any street lighting was not a sensible idea.

I had grown used to my twice-weekly visits and have to admit to a slight feeling of being trapped in our cottage. I had no problem spending the evening with Holmes and we enjoyed many such, sitting in front of the fire either reading or recalling past days. But even a close relationship as ours benefits from time apart and the opportunity to meet with others and I am not, by nature, as solitary a creature as Holmes.

However, the situation was resolved by George Hill, who farmed nearby, saying he would be taking his father to the pub in the trap and would I like him to collect me on the way. I replied I would be delighted, but I didn’t want to take him out of his way. Tom Hill, George’s father, assured me it would be no problem and besides which, it would guarantee he would have at least one sensible person to talk to whilst he was there.

Holmes encouraged me to go. It was not purely for my own benefit. He continued to observe those around us, as he had done all his life, and whereas previously Mycroft had been the companion who would correct any errors in his observations, he was now reliant on me to do so. Clearly pure observation was not my forte, but my conversations in the pub meant I had a reasonable idea of who most of the people in the village were and I was also privy to the local gossip. It was this combination which enabled Holmes to solve his first case in the village.

I was in my usual chair in the pub one Thursday evening, when I found myself being appealed to by some of the locals.

“What do you say, doctor? They say James Hawkins died from food poisoning, but it seems strange to us that no-one else fell ill.”

“It’s possible he was allergic to something in the meal,” I replied, not wishing to become involved in another doctor’s diagnosis.

“Nah, it was Sunday roast, the same as he’d eaten every Sunday all his life.”

“He may have had a weakness of some sort, or perhaps it wasn’t this meal which caused the problem.” I tried to make my words sound as final as possible. Joining in idle gossip is one matter, being expected to make a professional judgement without being in possession of any of the facts, is quite another.

Fortunately, Seth was sitting at the table with us, and turning to Tom Hill he made a deliberately provocative statement about the correct time to prune roses, which Tom replied to quite heatedly and the others drifted away. I ventured to add something I had heard about rose pruning, to be informed by both gentlemen, now entirely in agreement, that I couldn’t possibly understand the subject. After which Tom took out the box of dominoes and we entertained ourselves until it was time to return home.

Nonetheless, on the journey back to the cottage, Tom turned to me and said, “They are right: there was something strange about James Hawkins’ death. But I don’t suppose we’ll ever find out the truth, and in which case, there’s no point worrying about it.”

I related the evening’s discussion to Holmes when I got home. I expected him to dismiss the whole idea as merely village gossip, but instead he said, “Now that’s interesting. I suggest we have an early night, Watson, as tomorrow may prove to be busy.”

***

It was some weeks since Holmes had eaten his breakfast before I had made it downstairs. In the summer this had not been an unusual occurrence, but with the shorter days he had seen no reason to rush out to check his hives when it was still too dark to see them properly. However, this morning he was as enthusiastic as he had been when on a case in London. I groaned, for I had grown accustomed to having time to eat my breakfast before he dragged me out. Fortunately, Holmes permitted me just time to down my food before handing me my overcoat and demanding I accompany him.

It is obvious we are no longer the men who followed eagerly after a hound on a trail. Nevertheless, we made good time down to the village. Holmes, as has always been his fashion, had refused to enlighten me regarding his thoughts; although now I believe it is partly for the sake of conserving his breath while walking quickly, rather than purely from his perverse sense of the dramatic.

Our first call was to the general stores, where Holmes enquired whether they had any flypaper. The assistant went to check in the back of the shop and returned to say there was none there. He expressed surprise at this, since he was sure there had been some the previous week and it seemed very unusual to have sold out in late autumn. Holmes thanked him for his assistance and when asked if he wished the shopkeeper to order some in, replied that it wasn’t urgent and he would call back again in a few weeks’ time.

Once outside the shop Holmes and I exchanged glances. “Arsenic poisoning?” I queried.

“It would seem plausible,” Holmes replied.

“It was a shame the assistant didn’t know who had bought the fly paper.”

“Anyone who is cunning enough to use arsenic as their murder weapon is not likely to buy a vast quantity of flypaper the week before they commit the act. In all likelihood the flypaper was bought in two or three small amounts, possibly by different people. It would be easy enough to ensure one was served by a different assistant, the shop employs a number of people.”

“That is true.”

“Do you know where the late James Hawkins lived? I believe we should call round and offer our condolences.”

Although I did not know the exact house, I knew approximately where he lived. And once in the vicinity we would be able to see which house was in mourning.

As we approached our destination we could hear the sounds of an altercation. A small crowd had gathered and we unobtrusively joined the back of it. A large man, who I identified to Holmes as being Hawkins’ older son, had apparently taken offence at someone who had accused his mother of poisoning his father. The son had used his fist to make his point and the constable had been called.

By the time we arrived, the constable was taking the younger Hawkins into custody. In the door of the cottage behind them stood James Hawkins’ widow looking strained, and just behind her was the son’s wife with tears streaming down her face, being comforted by Hawkins’ youngest son.

“I have seen enough,” Holmes said. He turned to leave and I followed him.


	2. Quicksilver Eyes

Once we were away from the house Holmes turned to me and said, “Does the Red Lion serve food of any description?”

“I believe it sells a few pies at lunch time,” I replied.

“Excellent. Then we shall call in there and partake of a pie, since I see no point in us returning to the cottage and then walking back down again. Mrs Maiden will leave us something to eat which we can reheat later.”

I was almost taken in by Holmes’ desire for something to eat, but then I realised he wished to pick up further information by listening to the lunchtime gossip in the public house. I however had no objection to partaking of a pie, so instantly acquiesced.

Holmes picked absent-mindedly at his food, while I worked my way through the rather heavy pastry crust. It was not as good as I was used to, but I have eaten much worse, and without knowing when we would finally make our way back to the cottage and Mrs Maiden’s reheated meal, I was determined to make good the opportunity.

While I was eating, Holmes remarked, “I had hoped there would be a change in the formal cause of death for James Hawkins, but it would not seem to be the case. That is unfortunate; it would have been easier had it been so, but nevertheless it shouldn’t prove impossible.”

I looked up to meet Holmes’ quicksilver eyes. In them I read the joy of the challenge, the exhilaration of the chase, and also an affection for me which he would hide from others. I knew this meant we would be partners in his plan and he was happy at the idea.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

“I need to keep the elder son out of the way for the night. Popular opinion is he will be released by the constable within the next couple of hours and will make his way directly here. Once he has a few drinks inside him he will be easy to rile and will soon threaten someone. The constable will feel obliged to take him into custody again and leave him to sleep off his inebriation overnight.”

“He is not likely to wish to drink with me,” I replied, “So I do not see how I can help in this respect.”

Holmes looked at me and I caught the familiar ‘Watson, must you be so slow’ expression on his face. I nodded. “You want me to slip something in his drink. I assume you have good reason, so I will do so. I shall however need to return to the cottage to obtain a suitable liquid.”

“No need, my dear fellow,” Holmes said, pulling a small bottle out of his pocket, “I anticipated this might prove useful.”

How Holmes had once again foreseen what he might need I could not tell. It was a clear sign he had not lost any of the sharpness he had had when in London. I suspected it would not be long before the eyes which had looked at me with such affection would be glistening dangerously at another.

It was too soon for Hawkins to have been released, so Holmes and I took a turn round the village while we waited. Holmes clearly had ideas he wished to pursue, but he did not share them with me. It did not matter, for I was able to exchange pleasantries with some of my new acquaintances whilst Holmes looked for whatever was of interest to him.

In a little while I returned to the Red Lion, leaving Holmes to undertake certain unspecified arrangements. Our plan worked well and it was not long before the elder Hawkins son was once more in custody. I met Holmes at the agreed point and we made our way together to finally make our condolences to the widowed Mrs Hawkins.

We were invited in to the cottage, where as before the younger son, together with his brother’s wife, were keeping the widow company. The daughter-in-law made some tea and when we were all seated in the parlour, after a few words of polite commiseration, Holmes remarked on the fine pocket watch the son was wearing.

“It was my father’s,” he replied. “It should go to my brother, but for the moment I am wearing it for safe keeping.”

The widow looked up and said, “Where is the key which was on the watch chain?”

The son looked at the chain and said, “Don’t worry Mother, it will somewhere safe.”

“But it’s for our box,” the widow said. “Maybe it’s in there. I shall go and check.”

“Please don’t trouble yourself, Mother.”

But Mrs Hawkins was adamant. She crossed the parlour and picked up the box, opening the lid. “It’s empty,” she cried. “My jewellery. The tie pin. I was going to wear the tie pin to the funeral. Whatever’s happened to it?”

She sank down into a chair, overcome with grief. I looked around, expecting her family to come to her aid. The daughter-in-law stood up, but then swooned. One glance at Holmes and I realised there was more to the situation than I was aware of. I turned my attention to the unfortunate widow.

Holmes spoke clearly to the younger Hawkins brother. “I think we should assist this lady back to her own home. I am sure Dr Watson will be happy to remain with your mother until we return.”

The three of them left the cottage and I did my best to comfort the widow. Although she was upset at the loss of her few pieces of jewellery, what distressed her most was the disappearance of the tie pin, which had great sentimental value to her. I reassured her my friend would do his utmost to find it for her.

After about twenty minutes Holmes returned alone. He presented the lady with the contents of the box and said softly there had been a misunderstanding, which he was sure she would learn more about in the coming days. He added he believed her son had been heading in the direction of the Red Lion and wondered whether she had a friend who might sit with her.

Mrs Hawkins said she thought she would be all right on her own, but maybe her neighbour would be prepared to come round for a little while. Accordingly I called on the neighbour and explained the rest of the family had a few matters which they needed to deal with and would she mind coming in. The neighbour in question instantly removed her apron, told her husband to make sure he took off his muddy boots on the doorstep if he returned from the pub before she was home, and came back with me.

We made our farewells and left the cottage. Holmes urged me to walk briskly, for he had spoken to Austen who had agreed to drive us back to our cottage, if it was not too long before we were ready to go. I therefore did not ask him what had passed when he had left the Hawkins’ cottage earlier and was unable to satisfy my curiosity until we had returned to our own cottage.

Even then, Holmes refused to respond until we were seated at the dining table; Mrs Maiden’s reheated meal in front of us and a glass of wine in our hands.

Holmes explained on leaving the cottage he had mentioned he had been thinking of going to Haywards Heath the following morning. On enquiring at the carriers he had learned the younger Mrs Hawkins was also going in that direction, and the carrier was sure she would not mind sharing transport as it would reduce the cost, since she was travelling by herself.

On receiving this information, her brother-in-law had shouted “You whore!” and threatened to strike her, whereupon she had screamed. Holmes had suggested it would be better if matters were sorted in private and they had therefore entered the rooms Mrs Hawkins and her husband were renting.

It appeared Eliza Hawkins had been maintaining a relationship with Bill Hawkins, the younger brother, whenever her husband, Jim was out. She had convinced Bill to steal the contents of the box in order they could begin a new life together. However, it was clear she had no intention of continuing the relationship once she had the jewellery and had planned to leave both brothers the following morning. Holmes persuaded Bill Hawkins to give the jewellery to him, so he could return it to the mother.

“Do you think Eliza Hawkins murdered her father-in-law?” I asked.

“Yes, I do,” Holmes replied. “She showed no remorse for her actions and appeared to believe she was at liberty to do whatever was necessary to promote her own happiness. I am still in contact with Inspector Prentice of the Sussex Constabulary and have written to him outlining my concerns.”

My thoughts went to the grieving widow. “Is Eliza a danger to anyone at the moment?” I asked.

“No, Bill Hawkins still lives with his mother. Although he has gone to lick his wounds for now, he will return home and Eliza will not approach them tonight. Jim Hawkins is safe in custody.” Holmes permitted himself a short chuckle. “He may not believe he is in the best place, but at least there he will come to no harm. It is possible Eliza will still decide to leave the village tomorrow, but with no money she will not get far and should be easy to find. It is altogether a very satisfactory outcome. Thank you, my dear fellow, for bringing the case to my attention.”

I smiled at him and his eyes smiled back at me. For someone who conveys little emotion through his facial expressions Holmes has extremely expressive eyes for those who can see into their depths.


End file.
